


no one ever expects it to go the other way

by SoManyThings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Lot Of Fucking Angst, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, accidental confessions, mildly graphic description of injuries, nurse tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyThings/pseuds/SoManyThings
Summary: Iwaizumi had been lecturing Oikawa on the health risks he posed to his body since they were approximately 12 years old. 6 years later, and nothing changed. It was the same way it had always been and the same way it would, probably, always be.That meant, of course, that no one ever seemed to expect it would go the other way. ----Iwaizumi spends a lot of time lecturing Oikawa to keep him from getting injured, but that doesn't make him infallible.





	1. "No one ever seemed to expect it would go the other way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man here goes, my first extensive haikyuu fic, quite obviously iwaoi 
> 
> ft lots of cuddling, lots of sad iwas and lots of blushing toorus

Iwaizumi had been lecturing Oikawa on the health risks he posed to his body since they were approximately 12 years old. 6 years later, and nothing changed. Every time Oikawa pushed himself too far, took too many risks on the court, didn’t give himself a _fucking_ break, Iwaizumi was there to scold him and drag him off to do stretches. The same way it had always been and the same way it would, probably, always be.

That meant, of course, that no one ever seemed to expect it would go the other way.

* * *

 

“Left!” Iwaizumi yelled out, and rose his hand to call the ball. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelled back, set without a hitch.

By this point in his volleyball career, the run up to a spike was practically ingrained into his being. It was almost definitely now his instinct to just run, jump, swing. So he ran, jumped, swung. 

“Iwaizumi be care-”

It wasn’t in his instinct to expect the ground to be slippery.

Instinct is a funny thing, really. When we’re so used to following a certain course of motion, we put everything into it that we usually might, regardless of changed circumstance. The same momentum, pressure, effort, all regardless of whether or not we slip on a spilled puddle of water, and if it sends our balance a bit too far forward.

Where we might get a controlled jump for a spike, we can instead just free-fall.

The scream that followed haunted the team for months.

* * *

“Holy shit-” 

_That was Hanamaki, maybe Matsukawa?_

“Is he- oh my God-”

 _Watari? Yahaba?_  

“What happened? What-”

 _Kindaichi? Kunimi?_  

“Move, move-”

 _Coach Irihata, probably?_  

“ _Iwa-chan!_ ”

_**Oikawa. Definitely.** _

Iwaizumi cracked his eyes open, turning his head in time to see Oikawa shove through his team members, quite literally throwing Yahaba out of the way, and slide to a halt on his knees next to his childhood best friend. Oikawa rolled Iwaizumi over onto his back, and Iwaizumi screamed, again, louder. It was loud, too loud. The shift of his body jostled his shoulder, and made the pain finally register in his foggy brain and demand to be felt. Oikawa paled, considerably, his mouth falling open in horror.

“Holy shit, that’s-”

“I’m gonna be sick-”

“Jesus-”

“Go call an ambulance, _go_ -”

“Iwa-chan? I-Iwa…” Oikawa’s voice was only just above a whisper. Iwaizumi’s eyes trained on his friend, his attention going off of the disjointed mutters flying around the gym. He could hardly focus, his mind going fuzzy with pain.

“What’s wrong, Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked, voice cracking as it shook.

“Just- uh, look at me, alright?” he whispered again, his voice so obviously faking the chipper tone he used when he was trying to suggest that everything was okay when it wasn’t.

Only shaking slightly, Iwaizumi nodded.

* * *

Until the paramedics arrived, Iwaizumi did not keep his eyes anywhere except his best friend. Not at the voices telling his teammates to clear up and go home early, not at the Coach’s phone calls and questions of what hurt, if he hit his head. Not even at the stray volleyball stuck up on the rafter of the roof that distracted him for a solid week in his first year. 

It took a lot of convincing and pleading on behalf of everyone to make Tooru let go of him when the paramedics did arrive. Even after he had been transferred onto a stretcher – still not looking at his shoulder – Oikawa lingered, fingers twitching like he wanted nothing more than to just touch his friend.

As they wheeled him towards the ambulance to move to a hospital, Iwaizumi grabbed at Oikawa with his good arm.

Of course Oikawa had stayed to wait with him, even when the rest of the team had left, even when every glance at Iwaizumi’s shoulder made it look like he was queasy, even when whoever was left had to help Iwaizumi sit up and the litany of _it hurts it hurts it hurts_ _oh my god it hurts_ drew more tears from Oikawa than the injured boy on the floor.

Iwaizumi squeezed Oikawa’s hand when he had managed to finally grasp it. Oikawa forced a smile as if he was about to cry, which Iwaizumi figured he probably was.

“I’m not dead, dumbass.” He forced out, voice rough and raw. Oikawa nodded, squeezing his hand again for good measure.

“I’ll visit you as soon as I can, Iwa-chan,”

“You fucking better,” he laughed, which finally, _finally_ drew a genuine smile out of his friend.

The smile faded once Iwaizumi was driven away, leaving nothing but an empty, tired ache, and a hand with leftover body heat cooling far too quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea short first chapter but for the sake of structure i like it
> 
> scream with me about iwaoi @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	2. “You are most definitely not fine, Iwa-chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of angst, lots of cuddles. the perfect iwaoi mix

“Have you been to see him already?” Hanamaki asked over lunch the next day, not even looking up at Oikawa in order to sullenly poke at his food. He, as with the other two third years, knew the exact implication of a shoulder injury for a volleyball player, let alone a spiker.

“Mmm,” Oikawa hummed in affirmation, equally distracted. “He was asleep though.”

“At least it’s after all the tournaments for the year,” Hanamaki suggested. They nodded. God only knows what Iwaizumi - what Oikawa, what _the team -_ would have done if he still had official games to play in.

The other two nodded, sitting in silence for a while, aside from the murmur of chatter around them.

“What even happened?” Matsukawa asked, quietly and only slightly out of the blue. Oikawa pushed his food away from him, losing his appetite the longer the conversation lasted.

“It was a dislocation, because he landed too hard on his shoulder. A bad one,” he said, adding as an after thought: “Through the skin, even.”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki winced, not at all forgetting that gruesome detail. They had all seen it. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know how bad sports injuries could get, just that no on expected it to happen to a member of their team, _especially_ Iwaizumi.

He was like an anchor, Oikawa thought. Always standing firm when the rest of his team was drifting. Everyone seemed to assume that it was the role of the captain to keep the team grounded, and to a large extent that was true. But someone had to be there to keep the captain grounded, when he was working himself too hard, when he was flagging.

That was Iwaizumi.

If only he knew the irony that the very thing that was causing the captain to falter now was Iwaizumi himself.

* * *

For the first and probably last time in his life, Oikawa Tooru skipped volleyball practice. Instead, he found himself heading straight towards the Iwaizumi household, like he so often did after a long night of practice, or on a rare day off.

Iwaizumi’s mother did not seem at all surprised when he cracked open the front door and called out an apology for intruding. He had, after all, been more than half the reason they had hidden a key in a plant pot to begin with. She smiled grimly when she greeted him, and he allowed her to hug him tight and thank him profusely for staying with her son the night before.

After being released, and laden with Iwaizumi’s favourite foods and painkillers, he made his way up to his best friend’s bedroom, a route he knew like the back of his hand. He cracked open the door, hoping that at the very least his friend was awake this time.

What he was met with was more so reassuring than anything else.

“You look like you haven’t slept in years, Shittykawa, what the fuck are you doing to yourself?” Iwaizumi called out upon seeing who was at the door, sitting in a nest of approximately 25 pillows and looking as grumpy as ever.

“Rude, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelled back, setting his haul down and flopping over Iwaizumi’s legs, deciding halfway through that he did, in fact, want some of said 25 pillows. Iwaizumi gave in with a good-natured grumble, bopping his friend on the head for good measure.

As quickly as the accident had happened, the two fell into their usual argumentative chatter. Oikawa was determined to catch him up on everything that he had missed at school, which, given he skipped volleyball altogether, did not consist of much. Interspersed within his shockingly in depth recap of the single school day, he rotated between fluffing up every pillow in the vicinity and asking consistently if Iwaizumi needed him to do anything.

“Calm the hell down, dumbass, I’m fine.”

“You are most definitely not fine, Iwa-chan!”

Begrudgingly – or at least seemingly so – Iwaizumi let Oikawa fuss over him, fixing up his room and fetching him things that Oikawa deemed as of the utmost importance, even if Iwaizumi begged to differ.

Eventually, however, Iwaizumi wrapped his good arm around his friend’s waist and yanked him down on the bed next to him.

“Okay, enough fussing.”

“But Iwa-chan-” 

“No buts, idiot, we’re watching a movie.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “At least let me set it up, stupid." 

Injuring his dominant arm did not stop Iwaizumi whacking his friend on the arm, and hearing a high-pitched whine of “Iwa-chaaaaan!”

When his laptop was finally set up, movie playing, the two snuggled back into the pillow mountain, Oikawa pressed firmly against Iwaizumi’s left arm. They stayed like that throughout _The Terror of Mecha Godzilla_ , with only a small shuffle as _Godzilla vs Space Godzilla_ began. By the time they got onto _The Son of Godzilla,_ Oikawa had his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, who in turn rested his head on Oikawa’s.

Iwaizumi dozed off a few times, but jerked awake when he heard a sniffle, and a cough designed to cover up tears that he had heard more times through his friendship with Oikawa than he’d like. He turned his head downwards to look at the top of the pale face on his shoulder.

“-kawa,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the brown tufts of hair tickling his cheek. Oikawa jolted, wiping at his face quickly, like he could hide the fact he had been crying.

“Everything okay, Iwa-chan?” He asked, voice far too chipper to be genuine. “Do you need something? Can I get it?”

“Stop crying on me, idiot.” Iwaizumi muttered, and Oikawa stilled. In defence, he burrowed his face back into his Iwaizumi’s arm.

They sat in silence for a while, with just the bad sound effects playing in the background, despite the fact that neither was even remotely paying attention anymore. After a while, Oikawa mumbled something into the crease between Iwaizumi’s shoulder and one of the many pillows.

“What was that?” he pressed. Oikawa burrowed in even further, but there was no mistaking his shaking shoulders.

With only a slight wince, Iwaizumi leant forward until Oikawa slipped too far down his back to be comfortable, and eventually dragged himself out. To his credit, his face was only slightly blotchy.

“Don’t get tears on my pillows, dummy,”

“You have enough that you wouldn’t even notice if I did!”

“Why are you crying?”

Oikawa went quiet, dropping his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His hand came up to cling onto his sleeve, pulling him tighter towards him. There was a long silence before he spoke.

“I was so scared, Iwa-chan.” 

His whisper was so quiet, almost getting drowned out by the sound effects of giant monsters destroying cities. His grip on Iwaizumi’s shirtsleeve tightened. Iwaizumi let out a sigh, bringing his hand up to ruffle at his friend’s hair. After such a long friendship, soft touches had almost completely replaced words in times like these. Neither of them were good with words. Iwaizumi was a firm insister that actions speak louder and Oikawa just couldn’t translate his own thoughts. More than anything else, they were just tactile people, and in times like these, it worked.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tooru. I promise.”

Oikawa nodded into his shirt, clutching on even harder. Iwaizumi sighed again, dragging his friend closer into his chest. Oikawa hid his traitorous blush in the folds of his shirt. After a prolonged silence, Iwaizumi spoke, quietly.

“You know this isn’t like with your knee, right?” That caught Oikawa’s attention. He looked up at Iwaizumi, who was looking down at his right hand where it stuck out of his cast. He cleared his throat. “This wasn’t anyone’s fault, that is. There’s nothing you could have done to stop it from happening. So… you don’t need to feel bad about anything. Okay?”

Oikawa stayed silent, but nodded, wide eyed, and leaned his face back down onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi tightened his arm around Oikawa’s shoulder, a needless action that made him hum in agreeable happiness and slowly relax into the body warmth of his friend.

They stayed like that until they both dozed off, with Oikawa tucked under Iwaizumi’s arm, and the long ignored movie finally coming to a close. It wouldn’t be the first time Oikawa had drifted off to sleep in Iwaizumi’s bed and ended up staying the night, but for once, neither would complain about it this time.


	3. “Holy shit, it’s hideous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally getting to the introduction of pining oiks and The Meme Team™!! \o/

“Oh! I got you a present!” Oikawa piped, jumping a little in place. It was a few days after the accident, a friday night, and, as usual, the boys were sitting in Iwaizumi’s room, surrounded by pillows, and chattering about useless things. Not about the injury. Not about volleyball. Not about Iwaizumi's practically bedridden state until he could return to school. Useless things. Like whether or not it was plausible that aliens did, in fact, cause the northern lights.

“You didn’t have to do that, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said, who, despite his words, did not make an effort to stop Oikawa from bounding off the bed and begin digging around in his bag.

He turned swiftly, holding his present for Iwa-chan behind his back.

“Okay, so there is a condition with this gift-”

“It’s not really a gift then, is it?”

“Shush, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that, nodding in assent before closing his eyes and holding out his one useable hand.

“What’s the condition?”

“You have to name it Tooru.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes flew open, and a range of emotions flitted across his face. Shock, primarily, followed by confusion and a little bit of fear. Oikawa, of course, took that as the perfect time to present the gift, plopping something rather small and light into Iwaizumi’s waiting hand.

He looked down at the plush toy in his hand. Sitting in his palm was a small dinosaur... thing. It was an absolutely atrocious shade of green, and - he snorted; of _course_ – it covered in a small sparkly star pattern. The best part, of course, being the tiny little space suit it wore, which Iwaizumi was shocked he didn’t notice sooner.

He looked up at Oikawa, gaping slightly, but with wonder in his eyes. Oikawa watched him examine the small toy, fidgeting a bit with his hands.

“It’s not much, I just saw it at the flea market on the way here-" 

“I love it,” Iwaizumi whispered. Oikawa stopped talking, going still. Iwaizumi looked up at him and repeated himself. “I really love it. Thank you.”

Oikawa blushed, turning around and fiddling with his bag to hide it.

“Of course, Iwa-chan! I picked it out, so it’s obviously going to make your dull room better!” He said. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, looking down at Little Tooru with a fond smile.

“Why the fuck do you want me to name it Tooru?” He asked suddenly; Oikawa turned with a face of betrayal at the fact that Iwaizumi wouldn't have immediately understood the increased value of naming it after him, and flicked him on the head. Iwaizumi laughed and waved him off, letting go of Little Tooru in favour of grabbing Normal Tooru and dragging him back onto the bed. He began fidgeting with the covers, missing the red flush darkening across Oikawa’s face.

In fact, he had been so enraptured with the stupid little toy the whole time that he had missed all of Oikawa’s staring; at the way he smiled, at the way his eyes shone down in fondness, at _him._

“You okay?” Iwaizumi’s voice snapped Oikawa out of his head, and the swirling thoughts on how beautiful his best friend looked when he was happy. How much better it was than watching him crying on the gymnasium floor.

“Just glad that you finally appreciate my taste!” Oikawa sang. Iwaizumi smacked him, again, and Oikawa whined at how cruel he was, how he was even more mean when injured and pretended to ignore the fact Iwaizumi was still hugging Little Tooru beneath his cast.

* * *

“Yo! Iwaizumi!”

“Iwa, you aren’t dead!”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked up when the door to his bedroom flew open with a slam against the wall, and Makki and Mattsun made their way into his bedroom, weighed down with a frankly excessive amount of food. Iwaizumi’s face lit up _._ _("Now there's no need to be stuck alone with this nerd anymore!" "_ Mean _, Iwa-chan!")_

The four third years spent most of the day lounging around his room, recapping stories of what Iwaizumi had been missing, how much of a struggle to keep Oikawa from getting punched without him around, the like. Oikawa had been coming over to spend time with Iwaizumi as much as he could feasibly fit into his schedule without getting into severe trouble, but the rest of the team hadn't been as dedicated, although that particular fact didn't surprise anyone. Not that Iwaizumi minded the additional alone time with Oikawa, really. But now that it was a Sunday, and the other third years of the team made an appearance, he realised how much he had genuinely missed his friends.

“Hey, what’s this?” Hanamaki asked, hours after they had arrived, having by now spread their combined heights across Iwaizumi's bed. H leaned over Iwaizumi to where some of the many pillows that hadn't been reclaimed by Oikawa and Mattsun had been dislodged. When Iwaizumi shuffled out of the way, Hanamaki pulled a small blob of damn near luminescent green out from where it had been shoved practically underneath his injured friend. As though Iwaizumi had hastily stuffed the dinosaur plush under his pillow in an effort to clean up, hiding something that ordinarily spent all it’s time at the top of his bed.

Next to his pillow and, by default, next to his face while he slept.

Three mouths fell open; Iwaizumi was left blushing.

“Dude, I didn’t know you slept with stuffed animals, that’s so cute.” Matsukawa chuckled, leaning to try and ruffle Iwaizumi’s hair. Despite the dislocation, Iwaizumi was making a shockingly good effort at thwarting Matsukawa’s plan to ruin his already spiky hair.

“Holy shit, it’s _hideous_. Where the hell did you get it?” Hanamaki added, inspecting the toy while managing to stay seemingly impressed with the combination of the colour  _and_ the space suit.

“More importantly, what’s its _name_?” Matsukawa pressed. Hanamaki nodded in agreement, turning to Iwaizumi’s flushed face.

“Uh-” he responded, eloquently.

“Don’t you have anything to say, Oikawa? I thought you’d be all over this by now!” Hanamaki asked, turning to the one friend who was (not so shockingly) quiet.

Oikawa was staring intently at Little Tooru, turning over the surprise that Iwaizumi had been keeping him by his pillow. _Sleeping with it, even,_ his brain unhelpfully added, as if it wanted nothing more than to fuel on his blush. Turning over the fact that that was, as of yet, the cutest bit of information he had on record about Iwaizumi Hajime, best friend. Matsukawa merely laughed.

“Look at him, he’s dumbstruck with how awful it is.” He said.

“Shut up, it’s cute,” Iwaizumi said, with what anyone else in the room would call a pout, regardless of how much Iwaizumi latter denied it.

“Nah, he’s right, it is cute,” Hanamaki said, then added as a quick afterthought “Just as cute as the fact you sleep with a stuffed animal.”

“Still wanna know the name though.” Matsukawa said. Hanamaki hummed in agreement.

Iwaizumi mumbled a rushed name under his breath. Matsukawa and Hanamaki leaned in.

“What was that?” Matsukawa asked. Iwaizumi huffed.

"T-Tooru..."

Both mouths dropped.

“Oh my god,” Hanamaki said, followed by incredulous laughter.

“It was _his_ condition of giving it to me!” Iwaizumi cried, pointing at Oikawa, directing their gazes to the other boy. 

“Wait, wait- is no one going to comment on the fact that Hajime is sleeping with Tooru every night?” Matsukawa said. Hanamaki burst into laughter, which only devolved further as he saw both Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s faces turn red.

“At least I got him something! If anything that makes me the better friend!” Oikawa cried, shoving Matsukawa’s laughing form off the bed. He huffed and crossed his arms, turning away from Iwaizumi, and subsequently missing his equally prominent blush.

* * *

 

The boys stayed around for a while after that before Iwaizumi got tired and kicked them out to walk home, left over laughter following them to the door and out into the warm night. When Matsukawa turned off to walk his way home, Oikawa and Hanamaki fell into a quiet but contented silence.

“I take it he’s still too dense to realise, right?” Hanamaki asked, suddenly and out of the blue. Oikawa let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

“I don’t get why this is affecting me so badly, Makki.” Oikawa responded. Hanamaki hummed in thought.

“Okay but, realistically, I think you do. You’re not dumb, no matter how idiotic the things you say are.”

“But-”

“How is this so hard to understand?” he interjected. “You fucking love the guy.”

Oikawa huffed and looked at his feet. The blush didn’t mean anything. Absolutely not, no way, thank you very much. After his prolonged silence, Hanamaki spoke again.

“Listen, if you’re having a good time hiding your blush every time he touches you – which, quite frankly, is far too much for my single soul to stomach – you carry on doing what you’re doing,” he said. “but if you want to stop _pining,_ then just _tell him_.”

“Look at him, he’s the straightest boy you could find!” Oikawa retorted, to which Hanamaki laughed.

“If you say so,” he said, shaking his head. Oikawa rolled his eyes. When he spoke again, he was quiet.

“I know that he wouldn’t be disgusted, he’s not like that. I just don’t know if I could deal with being flat out rejected.” He muttered. Hanamaki nodded.

“Being in love with your best friend does that too you, doesn’t it.” He sighed.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Makki?” He teased with a laugh, and did not at all jump when Hanamaki punched him.

“Just tell him, dumbass. If I have to hear you whining any more I’ll end up throwing myself in front of a bus.”

“Aw, but Mattsun will be so sad!”

“How the fuck did this turn into teasing me?”

“It’s just too easy!”

“Fuck off!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight i reckon there'll be about 2 or 3 more chapters after this? knowing me it'll probably be more but who knows, that's just all that much more iwaoi to love :')
> 
> anyway yea come scream abt iwaoi with me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	4. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god ok this chapter is like 95% angst (70% volleyball feels, 20% pining feels, 5% tooru fucking up feels) and im (sorta) sorry
> 
> but hey, pining iwa now!! \o/

By the time Iwaizumi was allowed by his mother to go back to school, Oikawa had not let up on his consistent fussing. 

If anything, it had gotten worse.

“Mattsun, he tried to help me walk up the stairs today.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, staring the friend to his left who clearly did not know what it meant to be a helpful friend, if the laughter was anything to go by. They were the only two third years with this free period, and decided to spend it relaxing away from the bustle of people asking about Iwaiuzmi’s shoulder by huddling away in the clubroom. Or, as Matsukawa seemed to have decided, to make fun of Iwaizumi. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my legs!” he continued, throwing his good arm up in exasperation.

“Man, just let him. Enjoy it while it lasts before he starts annoying you again.” 

Iwaizumi gave him The Look TM, usually reserved for when Oikawa was being a little shit. Matsukawa brushed it off with an eye roll, leaning back on his hands and giving Iwaizumi a look back.

“Y’know how much he cares about you, Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa said, moving his gaze up to the cracked ceiling after a while.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi relented. He returned to his previous activity of fiddling with the strap of his cast, a habit he had taken to in the past week to make up for the use of his arm. “Not enough, though,” he added, with a grumble.

Matsukawa let out a laugh. “Still got it bad, huh?”

When Iwaizumi smiled, it was more self-deprecating and wistful than anything. The past week had been a mental disaster, and no one expected him to deal with it well. Everyone sympathised with the physical pain, giving coos of “oh you’re doing so well dealing with it, Hajime!” and “you’re a strong boy, you’ll be back at it in no time!”, and even though it hurt like motherfucking hell, he had enough painkillers and distractions to get by.

The mental pain was another story. It wasn’t as if the loss to Karasuno was an old wound; it was still fresh. Going from being the ace that was good but _not good enough_ to hardly knowing if he could ever be an ace again was too much to handle. Which is why he spent hours holed away with Matsukawa when he couldn’t cope with everyone’s pity. Which is why he skipped more practices than he went to nowadays. 

Which is why Tooru’s over-aggressive caring hurt so much.

He _knew_ that Oikawa was doing this because he cared. He _knew_ that he did the same thing when Oikawa was off of his feet for weeks all those years ago. He _knew_ that it meant he was loved, and that Oikawa would never in a million years carry on if he knew it was upsetting him. But it didn’t stop him from feeling weak, pathetic, _broken_.

And it didn’t stop him from falling even harder still for his best friend.

Iwaizumi flopped back against the wall, groaning loudly and making Matsukawa jump.

“Why the fuck does he have to be so _nice?_ ” He whined. “Why can’t he carry on being a prick?”

“Yeah, well, your fault for falling for your best friend.”

“Shut up, you’ve been in love with Makki since junior high.”

“And if I broke my arm and he spent all his time helping me, I would use it to confess my undying love instead of whining at you.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “Doubt it,” he muttered, getting a shove on his (left) shoulder in response. He cracked a smile and shoved back, and absolutely did _not_ think about how much he wanted this easy back and forth to be all there was between him and Oikawa.

* * *

 

“Are you skipping practice again?” Oikawa practically whined. Iwaizumi grimaced, turning back away from the door towards his friend.

“There’s no reason for me to go, idiot.” He grumbled. Oikawa stopped, shrugged, reaching back into his locker to replace his volleyball shoes for his home shoes.

“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Walking you home, of course!”

“Wha- Oikawa, don’t be stupid. I’ll be fine-”

“That’s no way to treat an injured friend, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, shoving his hand into Oikawa’s locker to pull out his volleyball shoes and hold them out towards his friend, who frowned.

“Iwa-”

“I don’t need you to baby me, dumbass,” he muttered. Oikawa laughed, loud.

“You baby me all the time!” He retorted, stubbornly crossing his arms. Iwaizumi fell silent, letting the hand holding Oikawa’s shoes drop to his side. When he spoke again, he was quiet.

“It’s volleyball, Tooru. You can’t just start skipping all of a sudden.”

“It’s not like we have any more matches,” Oikawa huffed.

“Yeah, still. I can take care of myself, and there’s nothing you love more than volleyball,” he said. At this, Oikawa stilled. Iwaizumi looked up, finding Oikawa glancing uneasily at him. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

Oikawa blinked, waving his hand by his head with a laugh. “I love more than volleyball, Iwa-chan! Don’t make it sound like I’m some cruel man without a heart!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to continue, to convince Oikawa to just let him get home and go on to practice, before he was cut off.

“I mean, you’re pretty high up there!”

Iwaizumi stopped. Stared.

Oikawa stared back.

His mouth parted a little bit, like he couldn’t quite believe he actually said those words. Or, like he could only just believe he was stupid enough to say them, and now wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hibernate for eternity.

“What?” Iwaizumi tried, having to cough, clear his throat, repeat himself. His eyes were wide, and his grip on Oikawa’s shoes slackened, until they were only just hanging from his fingers.

“Uh, well-” Oikawa began, bringing his hand up to the back of his head. “We’ve been together for so long! You’re like my brother, right?”

This time, Iwaizumi stilled, and glanced away. The grip on the shoes slackened completely, and they dropped to the floor with a quiet thud. Neither looked down at them.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Like your brother.”

“Iwa-”

“Listen, I’ve gotta get going. Go tell coach I had a check up, or something.” He muttered, turning away and walking out the door before Oikawa could protest.

* * *

 

“Of _course_ he’s not going to confess to you now, you told him he was like your _brother!”_ Hanamaki yelled. 

Oikawa picked at the fraying edge of his laces, sitting hunched forward on the bench of the changing room after training. It had emptied out by now, with only the three remaining third years in the gym, Matsukawa volunteering to sweep up at Oikawa’s request to talk to Makki alone.

“How do I keep fucking up so bad, Makki?” He said, voice quiet. Hanamaki scoffed.

“Yeah, I ask myself that too.” He muttered, making Oikawa look up at him.

“I just- I panicked, Makki, I had basically just confessed!” He cried. Hanamaki looked at the pitiful state of his friend and sighed, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in.

“Yeah, I know, it fucking sucks. Feelings are the worst.” He mumbled. Oikawa nodded sullenly. “Try not to fuck it up again when you fix it, okay?”

Oikawa laughed at that, pulling away from his friend and rolling his shoulders.

“Me? Not fuck it up? As if.”

Hanamaki punched him in the shoulder, ignoring his complaints.

“Go get him, nerd.”

* * *

 

“Oh, let me get that Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa bounded in front of his friend to pull open the door, receiving only an eye roll in response.

“I’ve had my cast on for long enough, dumbass, I can work around it now.” He huffed. Oikawa hummed in response. After the “like a brother, right?” fiasco the day before, he was going to be nothing but helpful. He had sworn it, Makki had been witness, and really at this point, he didn’t think he could fuck it up any worse.

Nothing worse can be done than telling your childhood best friend turned long term crush that you love him like a brother.

The two made their way up to the roof, sitting down by the railing to look down over the grounds. At this time of the year it was quiet, but after the stuffy week of staying at home, Iwaizumi wanted every chance to be outside somewhere other than his cramped garden. 

“How was practice last night?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa bit his lip. It had, in fact, been awful, resulting in him hardly focusing, and then overworking himself to make up for it. He was left with a sore twinge in his knee, which he absolutely had not mentioned, and had jammed his fingers more times than someone at his level ever should.

“Uneventful, really,” was all he told Iwaizumi. “It’ll be better when you’re back playing.” He added.

Iwaizumi went still and looked down at his food, or really anywhere away from Oikawa. He set down his chopsticks, and when he spoke, Oikawa got chills.

“Tooru, I don’t know if I’ll be able to play after this.”

He sounded so _scared._ Terrified even. The same as when he had been lying on the gymnasium floor with tears budding at his eyes. Now, his eyes were unfocused, dull, staring off into space in a way that Oikawa knew far too acutely. All that did was scare him even more.

Volleyball without Iwa-chan? It was a preposterous idea. They had been together for _years,_ playing side by side all through high-school, middle-school, even long before. Hell, half the reason Iwaizumi was intent on being an ace was so that he could stay in a place to receive Tooru’s tosses. 

“Iwa-chan, of course you’ll still be able to play. Not right away, but after therapy-”

“But what if I _can’t?_ ” He cut in, looking up at Oikawa now, who cracked an uneasy smile.

“Iwa-chan, you’ve been playing for years, one injury won’t stop that-”

“You don’t _get it,_ shithead, I can’t be an ace again with a fucked up _shoulder-_ ” Iwaizumi was yelling now, no longer sad and forlorn, but angry.

“Of course I _get it,_ are you forgetting this?” Oikawa yelled back, gesturing at his stretched out knee.

“No, you _don’t_ get it! Because even if your knee snapped clean off you’d still insist on overworking it like a fucking idiot!” Iwaizumi screamed.

The birds that had perched on the other side of the roof scattered. Oikawa’s mouth dropped open. He could have ordinarily brushed it off, not let it get to him, but the painful twinge in his knee from the night before was a sharp reminder that his friend was right.

He didn’t know if it was the realisation of how hypocritical he had been in taking care of Iwaizumi while insisting he play, or the sharp sting of the reminder that they might never play together again that hurt more.

All he knew was that both hurt more than his knee ever would.

Before he realised what was happening, Iwaizumi was stood up, his stuff shoved hastily into his bag.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked.

“I’m going to find Mattsun,” he forced out, not looking down at his friend. Oikawa reached up and clasped onto his hand.

“Iwa- _Hajime_ , I’m sorry-" 

“I can’t _deal with this_ right now, Tooru!” he cried, before stalking off towards the door with a huff.

Oikawa watched as Iwaizumi struggled to pull open the heavy door with one usable arm still trying to balance his things, but knew that trying to help would only backfire, and sat, his heart breaking, as his friend stormed off down the stairs and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my favourite iwaoi fic trope is mutually oblivious matsuhana yelling at how dumb iwa and oiks are for being oblivious about how they feel 
> 
> come scream abt iwaois with me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	5. “Not like a brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Hajime? Tooru is here to see you." 

Iwaizumi blinked open his eyes, not realising he had dozed off. Little Tooru was tucked beneath his cast, again, like he always was, and had been every night since Normal Tooru gave it to him.

Speaking of, Normal Tooru walked through his door, chatting amicably with his mother, who was smiling just as much. Oikawa had that effect on people. When he looked over at Iwaizumi, who had just finished sitting up and shoving Little Tooru under his pillow, his smile sobered, like he was uncomfortable. _‘Good’,_ Iwaizumi thought, immediately feeling bad for having thought it.

“I’m going to the store, ok? I’ll be back in about an hour, do you need anything?” his mother asked. He looked away from Oikawa to his mother, shaking his head. When she finally left, Oikawa clicked the door shut behind her, and the room thickened with tension. He stood facing it for longer than strictly necessary.

When he did eventually turn around, Iwaizumi forced himself to look at Oikawa’s face, rather than letting his eyes wander away like they seemed to insist on doing.

“Did you end up finding Mattsun?” Oikawa asked, after a while, awkwardly.

“Yeah, we’ve been spending free periods in the clubroom together so I can get some space from… everyone.” Iwaizumi responded.

“If you wanted space, you could’ve come to me, I could tell you all about it!” Oikawa joked. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. Oikawa gave a small, quiet laugh.

“Yeah, no offense, but you are _not_ the person I’d go to for space. Far from it, actually.” He retorted, and Oikawa bit his lip.

“I’m trying to help you, Iwa-chan.”

“I don’t need help, Tooru.”

“You sort of do, you have no use of your dominant arm.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he spit. Oikawa scoffed.

“You can’t be mad at people who only want to help, Iwa-chan.”

“I can when it’s a constant stream of them and I’m _fine.”_

“After all the _help_ you forced on me?”

“That’s different, if I hadn’t forced you to take care of yourself you never _would!”_

“That’s what you’re doing right now!”

“I _wanted_ to help you, Tooru!”

“What, and I don’t? Of course I want to help you, I _love you_ for God’s sake!” Oikawa finally yelled.

“Oh, yeah, _like a brother?_ ” He spit back, wishing so badly that he could cross his arms in a stubborn huff. 

“ _No!_ ”

 

 

The room was silent. 

To go from the loud back and forth yelling that drowned out his thoughts to neither boy hardly breathing added more shock to the situation than anything else. ' _Or maybe the fact that your long term crush confessed his love to you was what caused the shock.'_ Iwaizumi's brain supplied. His mouth had fallen open; he figured he looked not dissimilar to a dying fish. As he looked at Oikawa, _really looked,_ he finally noticed the small budding tears in the corner of his best friends eyes.

He supposed that it made sense, if he _really_ thought about all of their interactions. Normal best friends weren’t as touchy as him and Oikawa. Of course he had felt bad in the past for giving Oikawa so much affection, like he was using him to play out his daydreams of what a relationship between the two of them would be like. But imagining Oikawa liked him back? That was always that bit too real. He never wanted to entertain those fantasies, because that’s all they were. Fantasy. _‘Evidently not, Hajime,’_ he thought to himself.

Belatedly he realised Oikawa still had tears in his eyes, and _had confessed his love to his best friend,_ who was unhelpfully staring at him in shocked silence.

He stood, slowly, as if moving too fast would scare Oikawa like he was a wild deer, which, honestly, it might have. With a slow breath, he made his way over to his friend, until he was standing less than a foot away. Miraculously, neither of them had broken eye contact yet, which was a personal best for Iwaizumi when it came to awkward situations. Oikawa took a deep breath, although it honestly ended up sounding like a huge gasp for air.

“Listen, I’ll always be here, regardless of whether or not you’re hurt, and I’ll take care of you regardless of whether or not you want me to, and if that’s a problem, you’re probably friends with the wrong person, but really, if it was a problem you _really_ should have noticed by know, I know you’re dense but even that’s a bit mu-”

“Did you say you were in love with me?” Iwaizumi broke in, cutting off his friend’s nervous ramble.

“Oh,” he squeaked, looking down up and away from Iwaizumi for a moment. “Uh, yeah-”

“Not like a brother.”

Oikawa laughed, and looked back down at Iwaizumi.

“No, not like a brother.”

“Then-”

Instinct is a funny thing, really. When we’re so used to following a certain course of motion, we put everything into it that we usually might, regardless of changed circumstance. But sometimes, even when we haven’t actually done something before, and by all logic _shouldn’t_ feel like it’s only natural to follow one particular course of action, everything in us tells us that yes, it _is._

Kissing Iwaizumi Hajime was one of those things.

It was soft. _Iwaizumi_ was soft. Of all the prickly nature about his attitude, the last thing Oikawa expected was for him to have soft lips. He had done a _lot_ of thinking over the years about what kissing Iwaizumi would be like, and in his minds eye, Iwaizumi had rough, chapped lips. But no, they were softer even than Oikawa’s, probably, and he _loved it._

His hands found his way to Iwaizumi’s biceps, careful not to jostle his shoulder, but pulling him in towards him nonetheless. If anything, he realised slowly, Iwaizumi was leaning in more than Oikawa was pulling. They stayed like that for a long moment, lips moving only just. Iwaizumi shuffled forward, raising himself a small amount up onto his toes to deepen the kiss.

It was very quickly evident that Iwaizumi was not merely content with a small soft peck. Oikawa knew very well what an impatient person Iwaizumi could be, and was not at all surprised to find out that it translated into kissing. He put his good hand on the back of Oikawa’s neck, dragging him down to his level so he could lower himself off his toes, and opened his mouth wider. Biting Oikawa’s lower lip, he dragged it into his mouth while his fingers ran through the soft brown curls and almost definitely ruined their neat waves. Oikawa gasped, not bringing himself to care about his hair, or anything else but Iwaizumi. The small part of his mind that was preoccupied with anxiety, that was always yelling about how Iwaizumi wouldn't like him like that, how Iwaizumi wasn't okay, how Iwaizumi was never going to realise how he feels; all of it was drowned out by shrill yelling of every other part of his brain screaming in excitement.

Oikawa pulled away with an incredulous laugh. Iwaizumi bit his lip; Oikawa noted how flushed he was and had half the mind to wonder if he looked the same. “ _I’m even paler,”_ he groaned internally.

“ _Definitely_ not like a brother, then” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa burst into laughter, dropping his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi pressed a kiss to the side of his head, and felt Oikawa’s grip on his shirtsleeve tighten.

“Is this okay?” Oikawa muttered. Iwaizumi was the one who laughed this time, pulling Oikawa’s head up to he was looking at him head on. 

“With the amount of times I’ve sat with Mattsun complaining about how I was in love with my best friend, that isn’t an even remotely hard question.” He smiled, pressing another soft kiss to Oikawa’s lips.

Oikawa sighed against his lips, enjoying the kiss and relishing in the fact that it was _Iwaizumi._ Not some girl who was sweet, and honestly a very nice girl, just not... right. Not some random boy he kissed drunkenly at a party while imagining he was shorter, more muscular. _Iwaizumi._ The thought pushed him forward, pressing against him harder and making Iwaizumi stumble backwards.

Instinctively, Oikawa’s arm shot out around him, pulling him closer towards the taller boy. Iwaizumi looked up at him to find Oikawa, wide eyed, looking like he had done something wrong.

“I don’t want you to fall and get hurt,” he mumbled, looking away when Iwaizumi gave him a surprised glance. “I know that you don’t want me to fuss but-”

“I really am fine, Tooru, okay?” he replied. "I promise." Oikawa nodded.

“I know. I trust you. But I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt even worse-” He said.

“Oh?” Iwaizumi said, eyebrow quirked upwards. “Did you have something in mind that might end up with me hurt?” he added, the hint of a smirk forming on his lips. Oikawa’s eyes widened, face flushing red again, somehow even faster.

“N-no! Not- _Iwa-chan!_ Stop laughing at me! _Mean, Iwa-chan!_ ”

His cries of protest were cut off with a press of lips to his own, and hey, he wasn’t going to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we have it! ty for reading! next chapters an epilogue which doesn't really count but still <3
> 
> as always, scream with me about iwaois @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	6. “You are our ace, after all”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man epilogue time! ft actual matsuhanas and happy volleyball for once

**THREE WEEKS AFTER THE INJURY**

It’s not like Oikawa wasn’t used to randomly being hit, but when he was, he did like to understand why it was happening.

So when Makki wound up and punched him on the back, throwing him forward and disentangling his hand from Iwaizumi’s, he felt more than a little betrayed.

“Ow, Makki, what the _fuck-_ ” he yelled. All he had done was tell Iwaizumi he was going to his next lesson early to talk to his teacher, have Iwaizumi pull him back down, give him a kiss on the cheek- nothing they hadn’t done in their time of dating.

Oh, wait.

“When the fuck did that happen?” Hanamaki yelled, gesturing wildly between the two. Matsukawa seemed to be thinking the same thing, eyes flicking between the two in a gesture of evident confusion before turning to stare with raised eyebrows at Iwaizumi.

 _‘Cute, he’s blushing,’_ was all Oikawa’s traitorous mind could seem to supply. 

“Uh- a few weeks?” Iwaizumi added, when it became evident that Oikawa was more intent on hiding from the wrath of Hanamaki.

“I was wondering why you weren’t bitching about it anymore,” Matsukawa hummed thoughtfully, nodding in what seemed like pride, or maybe understanding, and going back to his lunch.

“You fucking _ass,_ Shittikawa!” Hanamaki yelled. “After all the complaining, after you told him _you loved him like a brother?_ And you didn’t think to mention this to me? After I’ll I’ve done for you! _”_

Oikawa yelped, bounding behind Iwaizumi and turning him so his right arm was between Oikawa and Hanamaki.

“Ha! Now you can’t hit me without hurting Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out triumphantly.

“Don’t use me as a human shield, dumbass!” Iwaizumi retorted, turning his head to look at his boyfriend, even if he smiled inwardly at the fact that was what he could now call Oikawa. Matsukawa laughed at that, while Hanamaki did his best to drag Oikawa away from Iwaizumi so he could threaten him without risk of hurting their injured friend. When he succeeded, and the two proceeded to chase each other around the roof, Matsukawa nudged Iwaizumi’s leg.

“I’m happy you got it sorted, man,” he said. Iwaizumi cracked a smile.

“That means it’s your turn now,” he responded. Matsukawa turned his gaze to Hanamaki, not at all to hide his blush, no way.

“Shut up, dude.”

"Want me to break your arm so you can kickstart it?"

"Shut  _up."_

**FOUR WEEKS AFTER THE INJURY**

“Uh, Oikawa-”

Oikawa stopped, turning around to Iwaizumi. He still had his cast on, but had none the less gotten the go ahead from his doctor to get back to carrying things. Still, Oikawa had insisted on helping him carrying things, open doors, the like. After weeks of insisting that it was not done out of pity, Iwaizumi relented, and finally let him without only minimal complaining.

“What is it, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi walked over to Oikawa, reaching into his own bag before pulling something out of it. They had been headed home for a late night study session, which, given their excitement at _finally_ having confessed, turned into sitting on their beds kissing for hours more often than not.

Oikawa’s mouth dropped open when he saw what Iwaizumi was holding, any and all thoughts of kissing out the window for the time being.

“You have to name it Iwa-chan, though,” he mumbled. Oikawa laughed incredulously.

“There’s a fucking _series_ of them?” He cried, taking the small plush (neon pink, this time) from Iwaizumi. It was a pterodactyl, with glitter and stars all over it, just like Little Tooru. Instead of a space suit, though, it wore a small shirt that said “You’re out of this world!”, which was somehow even more fitting to Oikawa than Iwaizumi ever thought he could come across.

“Yeah, well, I saw it and-”

Oikawa cut him off by wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s middle and lifting him up, pressing a kiss to his lips. When he put him down, Iwaizumi was flushed, but smiling softly.

“Dumbass,” He mumbled. Oikawa laughed, linking the hand that wasn’t holding Little Iwa-chan with Normal Iwa-chan. With his boyfriend _(“I’m never going to get tired of calling him that,”)._

"Mean, Iwa-chan!" he cried, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, he smiled, squeezing Oikawa's hand and letting it swing connected between them as they began walking. 

**SIX WEEKS AFTER THE INJURY**

The gymnasium was quiet, except for the regular beat of volleyballs slamming against the floor. The volleyball team had been given a day off, since it was Friday and the coach was trying to be at least a little bit nicer as the year came to a close. That, of course, didn’t stop Oikawa from going in to practice his serves. _“There may not be anymore school tournaments, but I still have college to get ready for!”_ He had claimed when Hanamaki asked where the hell he was going, ignoring the subsequent eye roll.

“Out!”

Oikawa jolted, slipping marginally when he landed and falling on his ass. Footsteps ran over to him, kneeling beside him.

“Oh, fuck, sorry, was that your knee? I didn’t mean to scare you-”

“Jeez, Iwa-chan, after all the shit you gave me for fussing over you!”

Iwaizumi’s eyes softened when he realised Oikawa was fine, before hitting him over the top of the head.

“Aw, you care!” Oikawa sung, pushing Iwaizumi over slightly and getting a glare in response. Iwaizumi crossed his arms in a huff, which drew Oikawa’s attention to them. He stared for a moment before managing to realisie what was different, looking back up at Iwaizumi's face in excitement.

“Iwa-chan! You got your cast off!” He cried. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I noticed, dumbass,” he said, leaving Oikawa to pout. “I…” He began, trailing off almost immediately.

“What’s wrong, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked.

“I was wondering if you could toss to me for a bit, is all,” he asked, looking away. Oikawa’s smile brightened.

“I’ve only been waiting for six weeks!” He cried, pushing himself up and practically skipping towards the net. “Ready?” He asked, looking over at where Iwaizumi stood, having retrieved a ball from the cart. Despite the ready stance, Oikawa paused, noticing the furrowed crease of his eyebrows, and the evident worry surrounding everything in his form.

“What if I can’t do it, Tooru?” He mumbled. Oikawa sighed and lowered his arms. 

“It doesn’t matter if you can’t get it right away, Iwa-chan,” he replied. “It doesn’t mean you never will. You are our ace, after all!”

Iwaizumi cracked a smile, looking up at Oikawa and giving him a bigger, more genuine smile. He was their ace, after all. 

“Right, you ready?” Oikawa asked again, and Iwaizumi nodded, determination setting in his features. He threw the ball up, and Oikawa set it without a hitch.

Instinct is a funny thing, really. When we’re so used to following a certain course of motion, we put everything into it that we usually might, regardless of changed circumstance.

Iwaizumi leapt, run up still so natural, and swung.

The ball landed on the other side of the court, well within bounds, sending a resounding smack that echoed across the gym.

Iwaizumi would later deny that he shrieked, per se, but found no shame in admitting that he leapt on Oikawa, wrapping _both_ arms around his neck, finally, and encircling his boyfriend's tall frame with his legs. Oikawa laughed, genuine happiness flowing out, as he hugged Iwaizumi and let him excitedly kiss his face. Eventually he stilled his frantic affection, pressing a slow, warm kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Wow, rub it in everyone’s faces, why don’t you,” came a voice from the other side of the gym. They both looked up, watching Hanamaki and Matsukawa make their way into the gym. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and dropped off from Oikawa. He was about to retort, when Oikawa gasped in a breath and definitely did shriek, loudly, smacking Iwaizumi on the chest,  _hard._

“Ow, what the fuck-”

“Fucking _finally!”_ Oikawa yelled, dashing around to the two in the doorway. Iwaizumi followed his bounding boyfriend, noticing his friends flushed faces, and…

“Holy shit, dude,” He broke into a wide smile, dashing over to Matsukawa and ruffling his hair. “You did it!”

“Well, Makki did, but-”

Hanamaki rose his and Matsukawa’s clasped hands into the air in a weird form of a victory pose, to which Oikawa fucking  _applauded,_ the nerd.

“So me and Iwa-chan beat you! Hah!”

“Yeah, but it took a broken shoulder and god knows how many fights to get you there.”

“Shush, Makki, don’t be jealous.”

“Speaking of, congrats on getting the cast off dude.”

“Thanks, congrats on the boyfriend.”

“I’d say the same, but you’re stuck with this nerd.”

“Mean, Mattsun!”

Iwaizumi sighed, wrapping his arm around Oikawa’s to pull him down into a kiss. He ignored Mattsun and Makki’s frankly unneeded sound effects and practically audible eye rolls in favour of leaning his forehead against Oikawa’s.

“He’s right though, you are a nerd," he added, a quiet whisper just for Oikawa. 

"But you love me anyway, Iwa-chan." He mumbled back. 

“Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> comments always appreciated ofc, and as per usual, come yell about iwaois w/ me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> scream with me about iwaoi @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


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